


Brigid Devotion

by Kuzuriolu



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/F, Fluff, Girls in Love, Hurt/Comfort, Mentions of Squid, Post-Time Skip, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Wives, minor spoilers for crimson flower, valentines day 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:28:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22729168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kuzuriolu/pseuds/Kuzuriolu
Summary: Dorothea has never cared for the Day of Devotion, full of nothing but painful memories of heartbreak. However, Petra has promised to change her opinion.
Relationships: Dorothea Arnault/Petra Macneary
Comments: 7
Kudos: 103





	Brigid Devotion

**Author's Note:**

> Note: I usually have someone else read over my fanfic before I publish it, but I made a last minute decision to write it. Therefore, the only person who edited this chapter is myself. I hope there's not too many glaring mistakes. 
> 
> The Day of Devotion is something that's mentioned in Fire Emblem: Heroes, but not Three Houses. Since there's no canonical "Valentines Day" in Three Houses that we know of, I just sort of integrated it here. Of course, Brigid has absolutely NO lore about lovers, so all of it is from my own head, because apparently I gotta do the writer's job for them.
> 
> Either way, I'm glad I got this out in time, even if I'm posting it an hour and a half before Valentines ends, and most people won't read this until tomorrow. I hope you enjoy!
> 
> This fanfic can be read in conjunction with Love and the Ocean's Breeze.

The fourteenth day of the Pegasus Moon marked what was known as The Day of Devotion in Fódlan, a celebration dedicated to romance. Upon this day every single year, love birds would flock to restaurants and shower their partners in an array of sweet gifts, ranging from bright red roses to delicious candies. It was a day to forget all about everyday struggles and bask in the glory of love, both new and old.

Unfortunately, there was none of that vigor to be found upon the Day of Devotion in Imperial Year 1184.

Fódlan was ravaged by war, and the once prosperous towns surrounding Garegg Mach Monastery lay in tatters. The formerly popular restaurants that overflowed with couples in deep love were nothing more than rubble that had yet to be cleared, a distant recollection of peaceful times. 

Dorothea, however, harbored nothing but painful memories of the Day of Devotion.

The young songstress sighed wistfully to herself as she gazed upon the monastery beneath from the third floor balcony. It had been nearly five years since the start of this dreadful war, and the Black Eagle Strike Force was still in tatters without its mentor, Byleth, the heart of the group. Almost all of the spirit for the special day had run bone dry, save for the figure of Sylvain below in the courtyard attempting to win the favor of a couple of girls, likely for his own amusement rather than for the want of something truly romantic. How revolting, Dorothea thought bitterly. As if romance wasn’t already long dead. 

Back when she had been a popular songstress at the Mittelfrank Opera Company, the Day of Devotion has been about countless hordes of suitors flooding her doors, each shoving a gift more extravagant than the last into her arms, reciting meaningless words of love. Once or twice she had allowed a standout to take her upon a date, only for it to end in her leaving to lock herself in her room in frustrated tears. She could only put on that charming young diva act for so long. 

How many men had she taken on dates, only to realize minutes into it that they only desired her for her beauty? How many times had she politely rejected them when they inquired about a second date? Her heart lurched in her stomach at the thought. Yes, the Day of Devotion served no purpose to her other than to make her feel horribly depressed.

“Dorothea?”

A sudden voice from behind Dorothea snapped her out of her morose thoughts. She turned upon her heel and gasped when she saw none other than Petra Macneary, the princess of Brigid and her closest friend, standing behind her with a worried expression.

“I checked your room, but I could not find you. Lady Edelgard told me to be checking here,” Petra told the other woman with a crooked frown. “You are not feeling well. Is there some way I can help?”

The songstress laughed lightly, feeling her worries slightly elevate at the sight of her kind friend. “Don’t worry about me, Petra. The Day of Devotion is always like this for me, these last years,” she answered, curving her lips into a sad smile. 

Petra joined the woman’s side, wandering up to the railing and curling her fingers around the cold steel. Eyes scanned the courtyard beneath, focusing on the sight of Sylvain being shoved aside by some less than amused Imperial soldier. _Serves him right_.

“I have understanding,” Petra spoke softly, a sympathetic look within her pale eyes. “You have told me before about the many men who fight for your attention. I would not be liking that either.” 

“It’s no fun. Now, the Day of Devotion just serves as a reminder that I’m getting older, and well… that I’m still unlucky, I suppose,” lamented the mage as she placed both her elbows upon the railing, cupping her cheek in her palm. The day was still young, and the songbirds were chattering as cheerfully as ever. Even so, the world was still gray and gloomy, unable to be brightened even by the beautiful songs. Dorothea supposed she could spend the rest of the day simply moping, but that hardly seemed fair to her adjacent friend. Goddess knows how many times she had come to Petra in tears, venting off all the horrors of war. “That’s enough about me, though. I don’t think you’ve ever told me about how you celebrate the Day of Devotion in Brigid. Well, if you even celebrate it at all. I’d love to hear, if you’re willing,” she inquired, curiosity sparking within. 

Petra’s downcast expression shifted into a grin as the corners of her mouth quirked upwards. “You wish to know even more about Brigid?” she asked hopefully.

“Of course, Petra! I always love hearing about your homeland,” encouraged Dorothea. She could listen to the princess describe her bountiful island paradise in detail for ages. Sometimes, when she woke from horrid nightmares, she would knock upon Petra’s door and spend the rest of the night in her bed, listening to the huntress recount the shimmering sea as she played gently with loose locks of Dorothea’s hair, the songstress cuddling into her side. On those nights, she would be lulled into peaceful dreams of standing upon the beautiful shore, Petra at her side. Those, of course, were simply dreams, and nothing Dorothea could ever hope to come to fruition. She scorned herself for even daring to think of the Brigid princess in that way. Yet, she never failed to notice how Petra would gaze back at her with an adoring look in her eyes, as though the songstress was made of the stars themselves.

In fact, that was how Petra was looking at her right now: with exuberant joy, eyes shining like the sun. 

“Then I shall be telling you!” Petra gushed out. “In Brigid, we are having a celebration of love on the same day as Fódlan. However, our celebrations have many differences. On the main island, Brigid holds a big festival to give thanks to the spirits of love. There is much dancing and singing involved! The people offer flowers to the love spirits at their altars, and make new marks upon their bodies to pray for health. At the end, there is a grand feast for all!” she described enthusiastically, eyes full of nostalgia for her country, glimmering like the ocean waves themselves. “However, many lovers have meals in private. The gift giving in Brigid is different from Fódlan. In Brigid, we are making the gifts ourselves, from our hunts and from our farm lands. We are using the beautiful nature spirits are giving us to be crafting celebrations of our love in order to honor them. It is forbidden to be purchasing gifts.”

Dorothea’s eyebrows raised in curiosity. To a woman who had spent most of her life having expensive gifts practically forced upon her, the idea of such handcrafted goods, made with love and care, sounded far more romantic than any customs Fódlan had. “Oh yeah? What sort of gifts?” she asked.

“Most of the time, clothing made out of animal hide, like scarves,” she explained. “But Brigid is also known for its chocolate. We are having the most wonderful chocolate in Brigid! It has more richness and sweetness than the chocolate of Fódlan. I wish I could be showing you, but… Fódlan does not do trade with Brigid.”

A frown formed upon the songstress’s face. The people of Fódlan looked down upon Brigid and all their ways, and completely refused to import anything aside from the occasional weapons, which often were just for display. Food was no exception. “That’s too bad,” sighed Dorothea. “What I wouldn’t give to try some of it. The Day of Devotion in Brigid sounds wonderful, Petra.”

“It is! Even when I was young, I still enjoyed the festivities. The feast had all my favorite dishes, including the most delicious squid! I cannot wait to be returning to Brigid once this war has finished… and…” Petra hesitated a moment before continuing onward, “and… it would be giving me great joy… if you could be coming with me to see it.”

Dorothea’s eyes grew wide at the sudden proposal. “You… you want me to come with you? To see Brigid?” she questioned, unable to believe her own ears. Many nights had been spent dwelling upon the fantasy of one day seeing the beautiful home that Petra spoke so fondly of, side by side with her, but she never thought she’d hear it right out of Petra’s mouth.

“Yes!” Petra reiterated, the uncertain look upon her face washing away in an instant. “You are always saying how much you do not like Day of Devotion, so I am wanting to show you our own festival in Brigid. There, you can try some of our chocolate! Would you be liking that?”

Dorothea’s heart fluttered in her chest, gazing into those warm dusty pink eyes with adoration. She had no idea if Petra realized the underlying romanticism of her request, that she was inviting a woman to join her in a festival of romance in her homeland. Perhaps she was merely offering as her best friend, but all the same, she could not help but grin. “Oh yes, Petra. I’d love that. I’d love to see the Brigid festival with you.”

“Then it is decided! One day, we will be seeing the Brigid festival together!” declared Petra. “It is my promise to you.”

The songstress giggled, cheeks flushed a warm pink. Though the war still raged on, in this moment, she could allow herself to forget about all that and daydream of the future, no matter how distant it may be. “I’ll hold you to it, then,” she replied. “I’ll be waiting patiently for that day to arrive!”

As if to seal the promise, Dorothea pulled her elbows from the railing and instead ran her hand down the length of the steel, settling upon the back of Petra’s own hand. The light touch caused her to shiver, as though a sudden electric spark had run down her spine. Yes, even if she didn’t get to see Brigid’s festival until a decade or more had passed, she could at least enjoy her far-flung fantasies of spending her days romantically upon the Brigid beach with Petra for now, while they were both still young and single. She just hoped she wouldn’t have to face reality soon.

* * *

_Two Years Later_

With the festival in full swing, all of Brigid was alight with the promise of romance. The afternoon’s sun had begun to descend within the sky, turning it a gorgeous gradient of light pinks and dark oranges. Dorothea took a deep breath in, allowing the fresh ocean’s breeze to flow through her lungs. A light gust of air caught her brown hair, tossing it into the air, sending shivers down her spine as the chill hit her bare skin. Living in Brigid was like being surrounded by an eternal summer, but the Pegasus Moon brought with it light wintry air from up north. She hugged the homemade scarf made of dyed fleece to her body, relishing in the comfort it brought. Her toes dug into the damp sand beneath. While the celebrations further down the beach were fantastic, she enjoyed the respite of near solitude for almost the first time today. When it came to matters of love in Brigid, who else was there to be the talk of the nation but the newly-wed queens? All day, she and Petra had been the center of festivities, and had not a moment to themselves. The mouth curved into a warm smile as she recalled how accepting the people of Brigid had been of their love once they had discovered it, openly celebrating the beautiful romance of the two queens. This afternoon, many songs had been written and performed in their honor, all while they danced in the middle of the town square to the “awws” of onlookers. Truly, it was the first time she had felt like she had belonged.

Still though, the most important part of the festival of love had not even taken place.

“My beloved, are you almost ready?” Petra asked, eyes painted over with pure adoration for her wife. In one of her hands was a woven bag, the contents of which still remained a secret. “I have been waiting all day to be giving you your gift.”

Dorothea giggled. “Of course, my darling,” she told her gently, meeting her wife’s gaze tenderly. “I’ve been waiting all day, after all!”

“Then we shall commence the gift exchange!” the queen of Brigid decided with a radiant grin. “Would you like to be going first?”

The queen’s wife felt her heart begin to race within her chest with a twinge of anxiety. She was so used to receiving expensive gifts from haughty nobles upon the Day of Devotion that she was not used to giving back, for there had never been anyone to give to. The extra challenge of crafting her gift by hand added to the layer of difficulty, but she had not faltered. Weeks of exchanging letters with her friends back in Fódlan had culminated in a gift made solely by her own hand, and she hoped to the spirits that it was sufficient for her lover.

“All right. I… I do have to warn you, though… this was my first time crafting something like his by hand, and I don’t know if it turned out just right…” warned Dorothea warily, worry flowing in her green eyes as her lips formed into a nervous frown. “Oh spirits, I hope you’ll still like it.” 

Petra shrugged off her wife’s worries with a simple shake of the head. “That matters not, my love. It is not about the quality of the gift, it is about the love you put into it,” she assured her. “No matter what you are giving me, I will be loving it.”

Feeling eased by her beloved’s words, Dorothea nodded. “All right, Petra, if you really think so…” she muttered. Her fingers dove into her own satchel, fishing out a carefully wrapped, tiny white box tied together with thin string. She placed it flat upon her palm and offered it out to the other woman, feeling her heart twinge. Many nights had been spent wide awake reading through manuels Bernadetta and Hilda had sent her, eyes ridden by exhaustion as she tossed away yet another failed attempt. She would accept nothing less than the best for her beloved, who had lit up her entire world when it was the most dim. She was a shining beacon in the dark storm, offering her hope when she thought there was nothing left in her life but cruel despair. Her Petra was her soulmate, her everything, and deserved the entire world. Translating all those feelings into a mere gift had proven difficult, but in the end, she had finally achieved an acceptable result. She just hoped that it was enough.

Petra took the carefully wrapped box in her own hand, undoing the ties with ease. A thousand objections rose in Dorothea’s throat, about how the gift wasn’t good enough, about how she was unable to craft something to properly convey her feelings, but she stopped them by biting down upon her lip. The thin wrapping paper within was carefully unfurled, and when Petra’s eyes laid upon what was underneath, she gasped. 

A shining pair of earrings sat inside the box, made of silver and glimmering, emerald-colored Brigid sea glass that Dorothea herself had collected from the beach after moons of scouring. Plenty of attempts at correctly forming the silver hooks had ended in a still imperfect but professional-looking set of earrings, though the songstress couldn’t help but feel they paled in comparison to the ones Petra wore. She would totally understand if Petra chose not to wear them in favor of the ones that she already had. She steeled her heart for words of rejection. 

However, Petra’s face broke out into a radiant grin that extended from ear to ear. “My beloved! These are beautiful,” she gasped, holding them up so she could admire them from every angle. “This kind of sea glass is so rare! You found it yourself?”

“Of course!” Dorothea confirmed. “I mean, it wouldn’t really count as a festival of love gift if I had bought it, right? It took me a while, but… well… I just thought you deserved the best.”

“Oh Dorothea! I am loving them so much,” gushed Petra, brown eyes glimmering in the light of the setting sun. “I will be wearing them every day from now on!”

Relief flooded the songstress like a wave, and she relaxed her expression into a warm smile. “Really!? I’m so glad! I spent ages trying to make them. Hilda and Bernadetta sent me tips, but everything else was all me. I… I thought for sure you wouldn’t like them.”

“Dorothea… no matter what, I would be loving them,” Petra told her, fingers outstretching to caress her fellow queen’s soft cheek. “You are the love of my life, my eternal soulmate. I will gladly accept any gift from you.”

Surely Petra could feel the heat on her rosy red cheeks that flared up the moment she spoke those words. “Thank you, my dearest,” she whispered.

“Now then, my love. It is time for me to be delivering my promise,” Petra began. She retrieved her hand and dove into her bag, all while Dorothea watched on in excitement. She already knew what lay within, but that mattered not. She had been longing for this moment, dreaming of it, ever since that Day of Devotion two years ago, when she had thought it nothing more than a pipe dream. Her breath caught in her throat when Petra unveiled a large bar of chocolate, wrapped carefully just for the occasion. Even from here, she could smell the rich scent upon the wind, causing her mouth to water. Long ago had she tired of Fódlan chocolate from the mass of it she had accumulated as a result of years of nonstop gifts, but this… it smelled _different_ from the mass produced candy, made from cocoa plants grown without love and on the backs of penniless farmers. Petra extended the bar out to her wife, eyes twinkling. “This is my first time making chocolate in many years. When I was a child, my mother would be making it alongside me, and we would be sharing it at the festival of love. I am hoping it tastes good.”

Dorothea gratefully accepted the gift, eyes scanning the bar with hunger. It felt as though her heart was clenching within her chest. To receive a carefully made gift rather than something some noble had picked out of a fancy shop without a second thought… well, it flooded her with feelings of deep love. Suddenly, she completely understood what Petra had told her before. It mattered not how it tasted, mattered not if her wife’s attempts at making chocolate ended in complete and utter failure—she would still eat it with glee.

“It smells wonderful, Petra! Oh, I can’t wait to try!” she raved. “I wish I could have it right now, but we haven’t even had dinner yet! I wouldn’t want to spoil my appetite before the big feast.”

Petra tapped her chin thoughtfully. “You are right. They will be serving my favorite squid tonight, and I am hoping you will be able to try it… but at the same time, I am wanting you to try my chocolate.”

“Hm... how about if I just try a little taste, then?” Dorothea suggested. “Surely that will be acceptable, right?”

“I am thinking that is a great idea!” Petra enthusiastically agreed. “Please, allow me to be doing the honors…”

Petra stepped closer, closing the gap in between them. Her fingers grasped the chocolate bar in Dorothea’s hand, carefully tugging down the wrapping paper as her hot breath tickled her wife’s skin. The songstress’s breath hitched as the rich scent of hand-crafted chocolate flooded her senses, so very sweet and tantalizing. The huntress broke off a small square from the bar with a light clicking noise, and held it to her partner’s lips. Dorothea’s cheeks flushed as her heartbeat rapidly increased at the intimacy of such an action. She closed her eyes and parted her lips, allowing her wife to slip the homemade candy into her waiting mouth. 

Immediately, her tongue was met with an unparalleled sweetness. Her eyes shot open as she felt the soft chocolate melt within her mouth, filling her senses with a heavenly taste like no other. Petra had been right when she had said Fódlan chocolate couldn’t hope to compare with the delight that was Brigid chocolate, crafted and grown with love. She eagerly basked in the rich flavor, a soft hum emanating from her throat. Petra’s finger still rested against her lips as the queen gauged her reaction. 

“Are you liking it?” she inquired.

“Oh, yes,” Dorothea breathed. “It’s delicious, Petra. I love it.”

Joy spread across Petra’s features. “I am having great joy that you are liking it! It is made from cocoa plants I have been tending to myself in the garden. I was worried that the trees would not grow properly. Oh, Dorothea, my beloved! I am overjoyed!”

The songstress giggled melodically, lips curving into a smile against Petra’s finger. “How about if you try a bit yourself?” she proposed. “I’ll show you just how sweet it tastes…”

Before Petra could even respond, Dorothea dove for her lips. Arms coiled around her wife’s back as she slammed their mouths together, pulling her into a tight and sensual kiss. The queen’s shock was apparent, for she did not immediately respond, instead gaping her lips open in surprise. Dorothea wasted no time in taking advantage of the opportunity, plunging her tongue into the depths of her love’s mouth. Petra moaned softly as she returned the fervent kiss with full vigor, fingers gripping at the ruby red fabric of her partner’s dress. Their tongues danced together as they shared the taste of the delicious chocolate, the sweetness still strong within the songstress’s mouth. When they pulled back to gaze into each other’s eyes, a thin trail of saliva still lingered between their lips.

“Mm, that was being delicious,” Petra commented, eyes half-lidded with desire. “If only we could be having more…”

“Let’s save all that for later, hm? We’ve still got that squid to try. Although...” a mischievous smirk formed upon Dorothea’s face as she leaned in to whisper in her wife’s ear. “We have plenty of time to enjoy more of that after, yes?”

Petra nodded. “I would be liking that greatly,” she agreed. “I am still having more gifts to be giving to you, after all.”

Dorothea blinked with curiosity. “Oh? Even more gifts?” 

“Yes! But they are in our bedroom. I will be showing them to you after the feast,” Petra elaborated. “For now, let us be feasting upon the food of Brigid! I will be feeding you all my favorite dishes.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Dorothea giggled, head full with thoughts of what could possibly await her back at the castle. Whatever it was, she could hardly wait.

**Author's Note:**

> I wonder what Petra's other gifts are?
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this! What better way is there to celebrate Valentines Day than writing fluff of your OTP? Doropetra certainly deserve it, and they deserve much more content! As for Love and the Ocean's Breeze, I wasn't able to fulfill my goal of updating weekly, as trouble at work has forced me to come in every day this week (and still, until Tuesday). I hope that this is enough!
> 
> If you liked, please leave a kudo or comment! And if you haven't already, please check out all my other Doropetra fanfics. I work hard for these two, and want to spread it as far and wide as I can. 
> 
> By the way. If you don't know already, I've been working with a few people to host [Doropetra Week](https://twitter.com/DoroPetraWeek) at the end of March and the beginning of April. If you're interested, please check out our twitter and see the prompts we have in store! I have a little something I'm planning for it. Hope you'll look forward to it, and I hope you'll choose to participate in any way that you can!


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